


The Top

by SunshineValley



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1950's setting (ish), Adventure, At least I try to make it pretty, Gen, Mostly chill, Pretty Scenery, family stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23309641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineValley/pseuds/SunshineValley
Summary: "The sun set quietly behind a hill, hiding the last embers of shining daylight. The sky, that before had been painted in beautiful stretches of orange, now only showed small splotches of sad yellows. It honestly looked like someone had haphazardly thrown a bucket of paint over the sky and called it a day. A shame, really."Or alternatively; Mike knew that this mountain trip wouldn't be easy. But he could do it, he knew he could. He had to.If only his sister would have a little faith too.
Relationships: Mike & Amy
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

The sun set quietly behind a hill, hiding the last embers of shining daylight. Clouds gathered together, before brisk winds carried them towards to the distant mountains. The sky, that before had been painted in beautiful stretches of orange, now only showed small splotches of sad yellows. It honestly looked like someone had haphazardly thrown a bucket of paint over the sky and called it a day. A shame, really.

Mike sighed and dragged his eyes away from the sky in search of something more interesting.

The cricket beside him seemed to share his sentiment and stretched its limbs, before disappearing into the high grass. Mikes eyes followed the edges of the grass, looking around the little bare hill, where they had set up camp. Maybe if he sat in silence long enough another cricket would come out. It didn’t happen unfortunately, but he sat crouched together and waited anyway.

The hill was eerily quiet, only disturbed by the occasional breeze or crackling of the small campfire. The night-chill came early, and he rubbed his arms in seek of warmth.  
It was nice in a strange way, boring, but nice. This was definitely something he could get u-

” HEY, GUESS WHO’S GOT DINNER?!”

Or not.

“Oh, I don’t know, the Great Cthulhu, our lord and saviour?” he asked out into the air, faking curiosity. Mike leaned back and snickered at the dumbfounded look on the tall brown-haired girl behind him, who had clearly been thrown off kilter.

The girl, currently caked in mud and various leaves, had a three-foot long bird hanging from her belt. There was probably a relation between her looks and the bird, but he wasn’t going to ask.

She squinted at him “Cachulu… uhm… Wait, is that a real thing?”   
Abruptly she jumped towards the campfire. “Never mind, I got dinner!”.

She shot a look at him, as if expecting something, and put her mud-covered hands on her hips.

“And applause is encouraged.”

That girl was Amy, his 19-year-old sister, older by five small years - but who’s counting anyway? She was also innately annoying, despite her necessary usefulness.

Amy was after all the only one of the two, who could go out and have a fair chance at gathering food.

Which was why she had been gone for most of the day, leaving Mike to the incredible task of keeping an eye on the camp and watching crickets. Despite the cold weather and his best warnings, she insisted on wearing her crumpled t-shirt and jeans, because it looked ‘neat’. Mike looked at her muddied back, while she poked at the campfire, and thought that the mud might just be karmic justice.

“Did you spot any towns, while on your little escapade?” He said and leaned forward.

The bags they were carrying were starting to get light and they needed refills soon.   
Plus, the single map they brought was not helping. Whoever made the stupid thing should either have their job revoked or get a geography lesson. Because according to that map, they were sitting in the middle of a lake.

“Don’t know what that means, Champ.” She said with a grin.

She was already in the middle of dissecting the bird, after seemingly almost forgetting to wash her hands. Hopefully he wouldn’t die from food poisoning.

“But! I did see a canyon, a big one, like the one on the map. It’s about a few hours walk from here.” She glanced back at him and said in a lower voice.  
“I’m pretty sure I caught a glimpse of its peak too, behind that canyon. The Mountain Top.”

Mike gasped, only to start coughing. “That is. hack. great. About f-. hack. time”. He cleared his throat.  
“I don’t trust that map, but at least now we know where it is and which direction to actually go in.”   
And if God didn’t feel like screwing them over again, they might even find a town.

Amy looked away from him, smiled and pointed with a dramatic gesture towards the sunset.  
“Well, it’s like Dad always says. ‘If in doubt, go east’.”

“That’s west, Amy” Mike deadpanned.

“Oh, right.” She waved her hand distractedly. “That’s why I got you isn’t it? Mom always says so, anyway.”  
Mike huffed in response.

-II-

The next morning, Mike was woken up by the sound of upbeat humming - also, the feeling of laying in an oven. He quickly tried moving his legs to throw off the multiple blankets covering him, with embarrassingly little success. The sun was warming his face, even through the tent, and his limps were uncooperative and heavy.

Definitely still sleepy.

“Amy? AMY!? Are you trying to cook me?” Mike shouted, though it turned into a yawn halfway through. The humming stopped, while he fought to escape the prison, constructed from most of their blankets.

His mouth was dry, and his head was starting to hurt. When he managed to throw off the last blanket, the tent cloth was opened.  
“Hey, are you… argh!” Amy yelped.  
Mike snickered at her pained expression, when she quickly pulled her head out of the overheated tent. She looked inside again, slightly more cautious and grimaced down at him.  
“The blankets were a good idea at the time. Sorry, let me help you out.” She reached a hand out to him.

“You can help by moving away, please” Mike said, only looking at the very Amy filled tent opening.

A string of apologies later, Mike was out of the tent and with a big filling of warm food in front of him. The food was canned, but he thought being picky was a waste of time. Amy’s sighing seemed to disagree.

“Really hoped it hadn’t come to this…” She wrinkled her nose, like the soup had personally offended her.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s disgusting”

“IT’S FINE!”

“It tastes like old man feet.” She swung a dripping spoon towards him “And you aren’t eating either”

She glanced down at his mostly filled portion, with an annoying and familiar look.

He was different though, it did taste fine. It wasn’t his fault, that his usual appetite had taken a vacation.  
“So, you know what old man feet taste like? Colour me not surprised”

The noise Amy made sounded like a mix between a dying animal and a squirrel. Maybe both. The joy was sweet but cut tragically short, when he was rewarded with a big spoon of her portion.

“Eat your veggie soup… even if there are… ugh… YOU need it way more than me, Skinny.”

She pointed dramatically at him, hitting his nose in the process. Mike rolled his eyes and poked at a small piece of soft, colourless asparagus.

“I think, you’re overestimating the amount of energy in this stuff. Remind me again, why we bought it?”

She groaned and gave him and small desperate smile.  
“Sigh… it was cheap, and Dad always says not to be picky.”

Amy tensed up her shoulders and puffed out her chest, then proceeded to down her bowl in two fell swoops. Mike laughed, while she visibly shuddered and drank half their water supply. His head gave an annoying throb though, which had him quiet down.

He slouched his shoulders and looked at the mystery soup, where a single air bubble broke the mustard yellow surface. Somehow the cursed thing had gone from slightly unappetising to straight up uneatable in a matter of seconds. His stomach did a summersault at the bittersweet smell and sad floating pieces of, chicken meat?

Congratulations food, you’ve survived the food market while being nauseatingly disgusting, by tricking unknowing kids into buying you. Good on you.

Amy was already looking elsewhere, and Mike spent a few moments scrutinising the murky and dreary substance before making his decision.

He discreetly stood up and skulked over to the nearest bush, while she was putting out the fire and packing up food equipment. Gently tipping the bowl, he let the contents float away, down the hill.

What a way to start the day.

-II-

The area, they were now hiking through, was enormous.

It reminded Mike of the legends, he read about, when he’d spend his days at home. In the stories, some say that the steep hills and mountain ranges surrounding him, and his sister were once living, terrifying, giants and spirits. At some point many years before any humans, they either died or fell asleep and throughout the years, their bodies had been covered by stone, grass and earth. Back when he first read the stories, he thought that some mountain people either had way too much time on their hands, or they were just plain superstitious.

Now though, the previous landscape surrounding the camp, had been replaced with natural skyscrapers and waters that probably made the town’s lake blush in embarrassment. While looking up and around, he could admittedly kind of see, where the stories came from.

Reading faded old books in the comfortable corner of his tiny bed, was very cosy and mundane compared to experiencing the damned thing himself. Great, he could already feel the superstition crawling up his back.

The narrow, uneven stone road was covered by green on either side. One side turning into a grey beach, where the sparkling light of the nearby lake reflected onto his face, no matter where he stood.

The other side was mountains growing larger and steeper for every meter, decorated with patches of solid rock and thin birch trees. From afar the birch trees almost looked like layers of moss. He had to stare towards the sky in order to see where the moss-like scenery disappeared, and grey peaks stopped just shy of the clouds. He was pretty sure he could spot a bit of white snow tucked into the formation’s edges.

He wondered, how it would look fro-

In a surge of pain, something yanked Mike’s leg backwards. He stumbled and looked down a second too late to see his shoe, caught on a large stone in the road.

Whoever said that you have to look up while walking was clearly an idiot.

He blurted out a very audible shriek and palmed out for the nearest thing that could save him from an ungraceful and probably knee-demising fall. He brushed the edges of a solid surface with his fingertips and felt a short moment of relief, before being pulled up.

“Woah there Chaplin. I got you.” Amy chuckled behind him, while still keeping a firm hand on his stomach.

Mike felt his face heat up like a fire kettle, and he rushed to find his footing again.  
His leg complained quietly from soreness and his near stumble.

“Nope, no I’m good. Really, I’m peachy… have it handled.” Mike tried leaning forward.

” Uhh, can you let go of me, please?”

He tried focusing on the nearest crackled surface, but after a short moment where nothing happened, he looked back, narrowing his eyes at the brawny girl.

“Let me go… _please_ ” Mike forced out through clenched teeth.

She blinked at him and raised an eyebrow, but let go and stepped away, nonetheless.  
“Uhm, you’re welcome?”

Shrugging, he adjusted the backpack with ease on his shoulders and shook his slightly trembling legs. Amy’s eyes gave him a one-over and Mike rubbed his neck, feeling like he was being scrutinized by a doctor. Then she cracked a small smile and gave him a featherlight pat on the head before striding onward.

His empty stomach joined his grumbling, while he staggered behind as they continued, this time keeping his sight fixed on the winding road.

The sporadic, half-buried rocks seemed to somehow shift size and angles every other step, so his dragging feet had more greetings with the ground, then he cared to admit.

His poor, poor feet.

Metallic clatter from Amy’s backpack echoed rhythmically through the landscape, as they continued a few meters apart in otherwise silence. Compared to his, her backpack covered her entire back and he could only see a small tuft of her hair sticking above. Though as time went on, he noticed that she would occasionally glance back at him or slow her pace.

He thought about calling it out, but the vision of her majestically tripping and falling over a rock, since she apparently didn’t learn from his mistake, was too good to pass up. She could probably catch herself.

So instead, he averted his eyes down, took a few deep breaths and thought back.

Their dad had warned them, that when the mountain trail ended, and the true hiking began, it was reserved for only the toughest of the toughies and the most prepared. For those who didn’t mind breaking a few bones and accepting the whims of the weather to experience an entrancing sunset. Strange wording, but lo and behold, like those giant-stories, crazy-talk apparently had increasing merit to it.

The trail would end eventually - but he could do this.

He smiled and puffed out his chest, then right on cue the sunlight all of a sudden disappeared. Blinking confused, he raised his head and noticed where they were.

They had been moving in increments closer to a passage, where the steepest of the mountainside met water and only a gnarled, old tree bridge allowed them to continue.

Now they were close enough, so that a thin shadow engulfed them, and Mike could almost reach out and touch the ancient, rough and utterly enormous wall by his side. The wall was made of green-tinted rocks, stacked on each other, some seemed to be three or even four times his size. The air was already vaguely moist from the thin veins of falling water, that ran over the muted green patches of rock, and then threaded together under the bridge to their far left.

It reminded him of a hand covering them, with water seeping between the tips of its grey fingers and running into the lake. He was also friendly reminded about the giants, and whether or not they were dead or sleeping. A shudder ran through him.

They were dead. They were definitely, definitely dead.

“Hey, check this out!” Amy waved him closer to the river side, as she smacked her other hand against a dry area of the wall. Hopefully, he hadn’t just jinxed himself.

Mike felt his stomach clench, as he shortened the distance between them.

Without warning, she clipped of her backpack and shoved it off. The back made a resounding ‘phump’ as it hit the ground, followed by metallic clangs. Mike rushed over to catch the whole thing from tumbling. In the meanwhile, she put a foot up on the wall and after a couple of tries had seemingly found decent foothold.

“Soo, what is this about?” He rocked on his feet, while the girl quickly put hers to use and soared upwards.

“Oh, you’re going to love it… if I’m right… I’m pretty sure, I am at least” She said, in between groans and hiving breaths. He quirked an eyebrow at the girl, who was already well above his head.  
“Uh huh, good to know…”

There were two small isolated cavities in the wall far above them, which he eyed with suspicion.

“If you get eaten, I am taking none of the blame.”

She almost slipped at that, and Mike sprung back with a startled yelp.  
“Watch it!”

“Are… there big animals here? Dad mentioned wolfs and bears, but they wouldn’t eat us, right?!”  
She was dangling in only two limbs and was now staring down at him with widen eyes. Mike winced and rubbed his neck.

That particular expression always made his stomach turn.  
“Predators, Amy. So… probably not. I think they’re more scared of humans. Something about that” 

He got a relived smile in return for that. “Thank God.”

In one casual motion she pulled herself up to stand on a thin rock ledge, and then continued up higher.

After, what felt like a short while, she stopped on a ledge beside the lowest cavity.

“And then there’s no harm in this” She said and plunged her hand into the cavity.

Out came a number of oval shaped, sand coloured, what-looked-to-be rocks, small enough to fit in her hand. She did a small whoop of cheer and cradled the rocks beside her chest.

“TA DA! And applause is, as always, encouraged”

She secured her foot on a sharp rock hold and leaned against a horizontal ledge, before scooting up to the second cavity. She cheered again and pulled out more sand-stones. She was far enough up that he could feel his throat straining, as he spoke.

“What even are those rocks? I can’t see them from down here, you know.”

“No, no silly.” She tried to wave her other hand, but quickly clutched it back to the wall, as her feet balanced the foothold. His hands flew up, as his heart jumped a beat.

“Watch it! Plea-.”

“It’s EGGS. Food.” She continued loudly. “I wouldn’t want some angry predator come after us. But we can scare them off with a big dose of determination.”

“Amy, I don’t think… Why do we even need those eggs? They’re bean sizes!”

He started tiptoeing, where he stood and saw on as the girl, presumably, looked for a pocket.

“Because it’s food. Actually edible, none-mustard-soup-related, food.”

Mike remembered the greasy textures and the bittersweet smell of rotten socks.  
“Oh... yeah, we are getting those down here” His frown changed into a grin, and he nodded fast.

“I don’t have any bigger pockets, though. So, sit tight, I’m carrying them down.”

She scooted back down, putting a trying foot over the ledge and lowering herself. All while having one arm full of delicate, probably delicious eggs.

Her arm seemed to sway, and she landed hard on top of another tilting slim ledge below. Maybe because of the swaying, an egg fell out of her arms and rocketed towards below.

He let out a shriek and dodged out of the way with arms raised. It made a resounding ‘splat’, thankfully on the ground.

“Sorry! Butterfingers.” She gripped onto an outwards grey edge and continued slightly horizontal instead. Mike wiped off an errant egg splatter on his cheek and looked up.

“I can… try to climb up with a bag for you. It’s probably too light to be thrown”

He took off his backpack in one hand, but before he could open it, Amy shouted down at him.

“No thanks Champ. I’m good. Really, I have it handled.”

She tilted her head and flashed her teeth, from what he could see.

“I’ll be down in no time.”

Jumping to a few minutes later, Mike was sitting on a nearby rock and picking his nails.

Shadows still covered the road and the quiet spring, where colours seemed to have muted and he had a constant chill in his spine. Small huffs of breath broke up the minuscule droplets that hung in the moist air.

He was trying to whistle an old lullaby, his foot gently tapping along to the melody, but his chest kept going empty and he had to blink away dark spots. Curse his inefficient lungs.

Another small whistle drew his eyes up, as white and yellow splattered in a puddle on the road. He put his chin to rest on his hand and tilted his head towards Amy.

Gone was a third of the distance between him and her, and also, a third of the eggs that now decorated the wet ground. She groaned loudly and practically melted on the small sitting space between two horizontal grip holds. She didn’t seem to care much, that her feet were still dangling.

“Buddy, please tell me I’m close. Because we’re going to have the bestest omelette in history after this.”

Mike snorted and counted the stacked rocks that she stood on, all of them much bigger than him.

“Not even close, Amy.”

Actually, at this rate that omelette probably had a very small chance of existing.

She breathed out a laugh, that was wavering slightly at the edges.  
“Okay…Got a plan B?”

Mike tried stifling a yawn, stood up and trudged over, until he was within arm’s reach of the jagged wall. He glanced upwards and reached out for a dent in the rough surface.

“I could climb u–“

“That does not include you climbing up here”

Mike frowned as he withdrew his hand, kicked up dust and muttered towards the ground.

“Well, if I loaded the bag with some weight, then I might be able to throw it up to you. It also might just hit the wall, or you… in the head. So, look forward to that, I guess.”

There was some ruckus above him and then a hesitant shout.

“…What?! I’m sorry, but I couldn’t hear you. How about I just drop the eggs down to you?”

His eye twitched and he slowly faltered backwards.

“No, Amy. We are _not_ giving the puddle down here more company.”

She made a drawn-out sigh and kicked her dangling feet back and forth from her little rocky pitstop.

“But what _then_ , Champ?”

“umm, well…”

“…”

“You could…” She said. “Catch them gently?”

“That’s not, how physics works!” Mike cried, though his shout melted into a small snicker.

“Well, mister smart guy. _I_ thought it was a decent idea.”

He imagined, how Amy probably sat with a straight-face and puffed out chest, which really didn’t help. His chest hurt again, as he leaned forward and snickered behind his knuckles.

Great, he was doomed. He was absolutely doomed. Even more than he thought. If getting a couple of eggs down from a mountains hand, was an issue, just a piece of the journey ahead, then the full picture was bound to be a sure delight.

Small sounds of quiet laughter came from above, until it broke into a boisterous cackle, that ricochet out into the open space. They both laughed their bellies out, one much louder than the other.

“If Shrimpy used a piece of cloth, I don’t know a towel or something, you could _totally_ drop those down. Just catch the stuff one at a time– “

Mike whirled around and gaped behind him. A few meters away, from out of nowhere stood a tall 20ish blonde guy in mountain gear. The guy glanced over at him and raised two fingers in greeting.

“- and that would take off most of the momentum.” he ended off with a smirk, now gazing upwards.

From up high, Amy tilted her head and looked down with a bright smile.

“Hey there, I didn’t see someone coming.” She drew her cupped egg-filled hand closer to her chest.

“That could work… could that work?”

Mike trudged over and stood beside the guy, where she then shouted down to him.  


“Buddy, could that work?!”

“Your idea was worse at least.” he said and kept his gaze on the blondie.

He crossed his arms and pursed his lips, as he tried to take stock of the guy beside him. The guy raised his eyebrows a slight bit and his perked mouth grew into a wider grin.

“Yeah, _Buddy_. Wouldn’t a nutritious, brimming breakfast be nice?”

The guy seemed to pause for a moment, he rubbed his neck and looked up at Amy with a smaller grin.  
“Of course, not that you wouldn’t be able to take the rest down, Pumpkin.”

Oh. He was one of _those_ types.  
Mike internally groaned and cursed his never-changing luck.

Amy scooted farther back into her jagged sitting spot, finally freeing her other hand.

“See, normally I would testify to that, so thank you.” Her smile was still bright and ever-present as she continued.

“But getting these down, sounds really nice right about now, so…”

She made an odd circling movement with her hand, and Mike tilted his head in confusion. The guy pegged up though, like how Amy had done the time they’d been given sugary toffee apples on a weekday.

“Alright, what do you have, that can take a little egg splatter, Shrimpy?”

Mike gazed over at his belongings and grumbled, though it was this time unfortunately heard.  
“So, it likely won’t work? Kind of stupid to suggest it then.”

The guy shrugged lightly and dug through his own backpack, which he had swung off with ease.

After a minute and after both the traitors shooed a protesting Mike away, the guy stood directly under Amy, with a soft looking wool sweater stretched out.

“Ready when you are, Pumpkin!”

Mike sat legs crossed in silence and waited for disaster to strike.

-II-

It worked. Somehow, it actually worked.

The eggs laid backpacked and secured in a woolen nest, as they step by step crossed the shaky wooden bridge.

The duo had become a _temporary_ trio, now joined by a smirking oversized canary. Chatter filled the humid air, as he took one last look over the bridge and saw, how an array of muted colours seeped through the spring beside them. He rubbed his arms and trudged, far behind the others, into the deeper canyon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a passion project of mine, that I started last year and I'm now up to 3 chapters.  
> I'm a pretty slow writer, but I do have a clear vision for where I want this to end, so it's figuring out how to make the middle. I'm gonna post the other chapters over the next couple weeks, but updates are likely gonna be slow after that.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2: Campfire stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axel looked at him with an odd expression before he spoke.  
> “Few years ago, any newcomer would be hauled up at the inn and get bribed for stories. At first I thought that you two were probably after the same things as most people. Get some exercise, good stories, a change of scenery.”
> 
> He paused and scratched his chin.  
> “But then I asked Amelie, where you two are heading and … she was oddly tight-lipped about it.”
> 
> Axel rested his chin on his hand, pouting slightly, and turned towards Mike.
> 
> “So, what gives?”

When thinking of hiking, most reasonable people think of summer-green fields, clear skies, and an inviting wind rustling your hair. They think of simple far-reaching trails and the magnificent view from the tip of a mountain; one that gives you a sense of joyous adventure.

Not whatever this nonsense was.

Mike lowered his leg and landed without a sound on the next mushy stair step.  
A flight of overgrown stone steps was leading them down a steep hill towards the centre of the canyon; or at least he hoped that it did.

The surroundings were damp from the forest-ground’s humidity, heavy shadows and treetops removed any clear view of the sky.  
Instead of giving him a sense of an ‘adventure’, it felt more as though, they had entered the forbidden part of a forest, where the old witch’s house hid behind the next tree.

Amy was hopping down the stairs in front of him and, for once, being otherwise quiet.  
The canary was happily playing rear and he whistled some sort of melody, that was unfamiliar to Mike’s ear. The whistling dragged out into a last tone and stopped.

He glanced back, as the ~~canary~~ opened his mouth.  
“Hey Sis! I have a question” Mike immediately said and turned his head back forward.

He just barely managed to dodge a massive tree branch.

“Ha! Eyes on the trail, Shrimpy.”

“Fire away, Buddy.”

Amy’s backpack swayed as she stopped and turned towards him. Oh right, he had to actually ask something.  
He scrambled his brain and surveyed the ominous surroundings.

“How do… what do you think of all this” He motioned around them. “And the other place with the mountain hand.”

The guy tilted his head at him and looked a little alarmed.  
“Mountain… what now? You saw a severed hand laying around or something?”

The guy’s eyes darted over to Amy; she shrugged and gave him a brief smile, which he reciprocated.

She looked away and crumbled up a leaf from a nearby branch.  
“I think this place and everything in it, is… big. Big trees, big puddle-water-thing – “

“Lake”

“- lake-water and big dark shadows.”

She shrugged and turned away from them, as she continued down the road. Her entire posture was covered by the backpack and her voice had a cheerful edge.  
“It’s just different, you know. Feels like all the trees here could grow legs and just swallow us whole.”

She smacked her hands together above her head in a dramatic jaw-like motion.  
“I’m sure we’ll get used to it though; not the swallowing part of course.”

Mike crossed his arms and staggered down the stairs, as fast as he could.  
“I’m used to it! I was used to it the second, we got off the train, in fact.”

Amy snorted in response.  
“Oh yeah, I almost lost you, when you tried running after that red dog-thing, it was adorable.”

Mike rolled his eyes and hurried after her. Which apparently the guy thought was a good opportunity.  
“Speaking of questions… I haven’t gotten your actual names yet, and it is somewhat of a scandal.”

“Oh, so Pumpkin and Shrimpy didn’t cut it?” Mike said, and then had to bat the guy’s hand away from ruffling his hair. He sighed, when the guy snickered.

The guy then did the odd circling hand-movement, that Amy had done, but in front of his chest. He even bowed slightly towards her.  
“So… what are your names M’lady?”

Amy turned around with a vague smile and Mike immediately ducked. But she just threw the crumpled-up leaf in the guy’s head and rolled her eyes.  
“I’m Amelie Richter, but Amy is fine” She pointed her thump at Mike. “And that’s Michael, my best little brother. You?”

“Well Pumpkin, I’m Axel Berger; I live way down there with my Mom, Sis and our dog.”

He waved down the stairs towards the end of the canyon.  
“You could say I’m their merchant; I do my part for the family, get stuff and do small jobs for people in the other towns here. There’s no finer merchant in mountain range than me.”

In the meanwhile, Mike moved around Amy and tried to hurry down the stairs.  
~~The guy~~ Axel seemed to wear his title of glorified errand boy like a batch of honour, but why?  
He furrowed his brows. What was the point; if you needed something from somewhere else, why would you go back again?

“Sounds dumb” He said, which he promptly received a slap on the shoulder for.

Amy seemed to have easily caught up with him and she half-smiled to him.  
“Buddy, you’re being rude.” She murmured.

He was? He squinted at her, but then shook his head and went on. Didn’t matter anyway.  
The conversation drifted into the background; his head felt heavy and only snip-bits managed to make sense to him.

“… really nice that you take care … bet it’s a long walk…”

“… not so bad, a little quiet… not complaining … company, especially the pretty ones”

Amy laughed.

“…no shame, do you?”

“Nope…”

The shadows gradually gave away, and Mike almost ran down the last couple of steps.  
They stood before a clearing, where the thin shadows of the trees reached in towards the centre but couldn’t quite envelop it.  
Mike grinned. Take that witch house!

His chest felt lighter; he stretched into the air and let out a satisfying yawn. He could hear the other two come towards him in a mixture of voices and metallic clanging.

“How about we camp? It has been a long day.”

“Wait, why? My watch says it’s only three pm, isn’t this a little early?”

“You can go on, if you want; we should really camp.”

“The town is only a few miles away though; we could be there at maximum five pm.”

Mike yawned again, and only partly listened on to whatever Amy quietly said.  
“Axel… nice of you, … enough food for tonight …needs sleep.”

He turned around and saw her lay down her backpack, as Axel sighed and did the same. He shuffled backward a few steps and gritted his teeth.  
A sense of déjà vu crept up his back and he walked further along the road, away from the other. There wasn’t time for simply waiting around.

Not that it did much; Amy shouted something, and then one meddling canary made his escape tragically unsuccessful. He was sat down and handed another feeling of déjà vu, one that was thankfully warm in more ways than one; a big filling of steaming soup. One that was softly red and had a thick creamy consistency.  
It smelled of herbs, spices, and a reminder of autumn.

Amy practically tackled the canary and openly wept for joy.  
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is so much better than the mustard-soup, I can’t even begin.”

“Sure, it’s fine I guess.”

The steam and smell of spices filled his head and made his stomach twist, which probably wasn’t a good sign.  
So, after a moment’s hesitation, he dug in. He ate the whole bowl in three seconds flat.

The twisting in his stomach hadn’t stopped; it pulled and turned, it practically screamed over his betrayal earlier in the day; although he most likely had saved the ungrateful thing from poisoning. He snatched another steaming portion and downed it just as fast.

As he looked up, he saw Amy quickly glance away with a small smile on her face.  
“Seriously, thanks Axel. We’ll pay you back as much as we can, once we get to town.”

She hummed softly while filling up another bowl, which she handed to him.

“It … it’s all good. You don’t have to. It was just a couple of cans, and plus they were almost expired.”  
The ~~canary~~ guy rubbed his neck and chuckled, then duck into his bowl of soup.

“We’re going to … Pilzstadt, right? I hope that the town compliments the adorable name, it would be a nice change of pace.”

The guy’s forehead furrowed; he put down his bowl and puts his chin to rest on his hand.  
“There’s not much, a church, a grocery, and a tavern; you know the essentials. Although, there is that nearby hill, where we keep all the Highland cattle; they’re sort of longhaired cows. I could and, would love to, show you around.” He pulled up his lip slightly at that.

Mike squinted, before rolling his eyes and tuning them out.

-II-

With three people working, setting up camp had taken them close to no time.

The tent was set up, the campfire was warming his heavy feet even through the thick leather boots, and the last bit of autumn soup was thoroughly devoured.

All in all, not much to do, when ‘do’ didn’t include getting to where he should go.

He dragged himself up and let his eyes flicker over the scattered bushes and untamed grass, that covered the spacious clearing.  
There was a small open viewpoint east of the camp, where they could look over a mossy tree-covered valley. The two chatterboxes seemed engrossed in some probably boring topic, so Mike made his decision.

He skulked over towards the viewpoint with a small bag and crouched together behind a bush.  
The thorns and needles stung slightly through his vest, but he only leaned further back into his makeshift support. He breathed in and out.

After a small moment, he placed the bag between his legs and pulled out pencil and paper.  
He skimmed through the pages in his sketchbook and smiled at the unorganised sketches.

_A framework house squished between concrete._

_A street dog with black spots, 3 legs, and a pup’s head peeking out from behind._

_Groceries; milk, oats and a bread with cheese._

_Long rows of clinical metal beds with white pillows and untidy sheets._

_A dusty looking train station surrounded by doodles of bushes and trees._

_Multiple crossed out versions of a bird’s nest._

Mike fiddled slightly with the pencil between his fingers, then crossed his legs and began to draw.

Lines curved and build on each other into a soft tip, and then curved downwards to form an outline.  
The outline was occasionally erased, edges slimmed or expanded, until he started lining the body.

It was small figure laying down with their head tucked between their arms.  
They were sleeping and looked like nothing in the world could disturb them. He wrinkled his nose and redrew the face, changing the shape of the eyes, shrinking the mouth, or tilting the head, before moving on.

The hair was thin and flowed down over their shoulder, following the arm and threading through their fingers into a small pond.  
He shaded the entire body in light grey, except for the highest tip of their back and added treetops around the edges. Heavier shadows contrasted to bring out the body curves and … it was coming together nicely. It was his interpretation of the sleeping mountain, and something inside him settled by having an actual visual for the strange stories.

Mike smiled to himself, feeling easier in his head, and he added small details around the sketch.  
He had been sitting there, practically laying inside the bush for… a while.  
Yeah, probably a while.

The hiding bush failed its purpose though, when Amy came up and poked his cheek. She glanced at him and then down at his sketchbook.  
She grinned and briefly hold up three fingers, before walking away, probably towards the camp.

Mike huffed; how dared she only rate it three out of five.

While he drew, the sun gradually flickered out of sight; the light blocked out behind the half-moon of trees surrounding his bush and the spacious camp site.  
By tilting his head, he could see how smaller dots of light flickered into place and stood out against the increasingly contrasting night sky.

He laid further back and scanned the scenery above him, as he could vaguely hear two voices drifting from behind.  
The vague sounds were easy to tune out, and beside those it was very, very quiet.

As time moved forward, he simply sat in the bush with chin in his hand and enjoyed the gentle atmosphere. Only when his eyelids got heavy and he started nodding off, did he get up and staggered back to camp. He said a simple good night and went into the fabric tent; virtually passing out, the second his back touched the mattress sheet.

-II-

Mike woke up, when something heavy landed on his head. The mass laid over his eyes and forehead, blocking him from any potential light.  
He grumbled and palmed over the offending mass. Slowly, as the fog and drowsiness from sleep faded; he registered the deadweight thing as an arm.

He pushed Amy’s arm away and she sleepily grumbled in response, palming out and clutching his pillow. He turned his back to her, as he tried to fall back into the peaceful, sleepy fog, that still roomed around somewhere in the back of his half-woken mind. After rolling back and forth for an, ironically, exhausting amount of times; he sighed, rose quietly and slipped out of the little tent.

The sun still slept soundly and everything around him was coloured in a light blue shading. Only the blurry tip of the treetops showed any signs of warming daylight shine.

Mike rubbed his arms and felt himself shiver, no thanks to his worn leather vest.

One could have taken a blanket out with them, so not have to risk going back into the tent and wake the other up; but well, hindsight was 20/20.  
Luckily, the campfire place laid more than enough feet away, so that it was out of earshot from their tent.  
There were better, more dramatic ways to wake Amy up. Accidental disruptive noise had too high a risk of payback.

He sat down on the long strands of grass, morning dew clinging to his trousers and hems of his shirt.  
The fire had been covered by a piece of cloth, which thankfully kept it dry and protected from any morning humidity. He pulled off the cloth and arranged the wood pieces with ease.

It would have been nice with some paper or dry grass for lightning the fire, but he managed to make do with a knife and matches.

Soon, a timid little ember gave way to narrow flames and grew into a healthy, orange forest.

This was a thing, that he was better at than Amy, and had been better at for a while - mostly because it had taken a lot of research and practice to learn.  
He scouted closer and revelled a bit in the warmth and comfort, that he had made for himself.

“You, the type for tea or coffee?”

Mike flinched and snapped his head sideways to where the words had come from.

It was just the guy; standing only a few feet beside him.  
He yawned and lazily raised two fingers in greeting. Mike just blinked and stared. This was twice now; the guy had sneaked up on him twice.

“…What?”

“Tea or coffee. I have a kettle back in my tent; it’s good with outdoor fires.”

Mike breathed a bit and then shrugged; getting the creeping sense, that maybe everything in this weird mountain area was somehow supernatural.

The guy slightly turned his head, seemingly looking around the campsite.  
“Suit yourself, I suppose. Is Amelie… do you think, she wants tea or coffee?”

Mike shot his thump towards their tent.  
“Still asleep.”

The guy’s eyes followed his movement and then motioned towards the tent.

“Don’t wake her up” He said a little too quickly and cringed. “She would flip, if she found out how early I got up.”

The guy seemed to mull over his words; rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Please” Mike said.

 ~~The guy,~~ Axel looked over at him and, thankfully, nodded.  
He smirked, and then tip toed, far slower than necessary, over towards his tent, as if he was creeping over small invisible mines.

He returned with a little leather bag over his shoulder and a brass kettle in hand.  
“So, I’ve been wondering something…”

Mike snorted slightly, as he grabbed a piece of firewood and poked to the scorching ones.  
“You wonder a lot”

“…I’ve been wondering something.” Axel repeated. “So, I would like to offer an exchange with you. You get to choose any tea, or coffee, or beverage you want, that I have. No alcohol though, you’re a bit too young for that. Sorry bud.”

Axel tossed the bag over at Mike, where it landed in his lap.  
“Anyway, then I get you to answer a question for me. Sounds fair?”

Mike hummed slightly; mulling over whether he should agree or tell him to stick it.  
Actually, that would probably go under the category of rude.

“Sure, Sis could probably answer better though; and with no need for bribing.”

It took a little while, but soon Mike had a small metal mug squeezed between his fingers; comfortably warming them up from the inside and out.  
Axel plumbed down beside him and raised his mug in the air towards him. Mike just confusedly glanced between him and the mug.

“Really bud; really?” Axel said and leaned back.

Mike blinked slightly.  
“Really what?”

Axel raised a brow with a slight ‘oh’ and instead took a sip from his mug.  
He made a clicking sound, probably with his tongue, and opened his mouth.

“So, I have seen my share of tourist and hikers before, friendly folks mostly; though my dear mom would probably disagree.” He chuckled slightly.  
“Few years ago, any newcomer would be hauled up at the inn and get bribed for stories. Nice and easy to do when it was once a year, but now when it’s once a week? They better have something interesting to tell.”

“Uhh, okay?” Mike said, not really understanding, what that had to do with anything.

“So, at first I thought that you two were probably after the same things as most. Get some exercise, good stories, a change of scenery. Can’t say I blame you; everything is much better here in the mountains.”  
He paused and scratched his chin. “But then I asked Amelie, where you two are heading and … she was oddly tight lipped about it.”

Axel rested his chin on his hand, pouting slightly, and turned towards Mike.  
“So, what gives?”

Mike quickly shifted away and tightens his grip on the mug.  
“We’re just here for hiking. Scenery and all that stuff… Why is that any of your business, anyway?”

He yelped and tried to scoot away from Axel, as Axel pocked him in his side.  
“No, no, no. I gave you tea, you give me information; that’s how things work around here.”

Sending a glaring look, Mike muttered ‘fine’. He adjusted his position around the fire, before sitting a little over an arm’s length away from Axel.  
He glanced down at the steaming mug and sighed.

Then he spoke.

“Okay, so… Our hometown is really flat. If you imagine a sheet of paper; it’s flatter then that. The fields outside of town can be nice looking in spring; but counter to that, they also literally stink.”

Axel breathed a laugh, but else kept quiet.

“Uhm, well then…” He picked slightly at the grass. “Then I read these books, that had these hills, these high landscapes, and this one mountain from where you could see it all. They were from this area. The books were just about a hillwalker, but he… he described these stories that he heard, the enormous mountain top that he ascended, and it was incredible. “

He bit his lip and smiled, even when he added.  
“He kept also telling about really small things; like how his toes were cold; that was annoying.”

Axel snorted, and Mike frowned, glaring at him; Axel made a small hand gesture and fell silent.  
Mike looked away and gestured his hand in front of him, as if trying to grab the empty air.

“I really wanted go and see that mountain top, ever since I started reading about it, but never really did more than plan and practice. Then I stopped school and… well, at a point I thought; Better now than never, right? So that mountain is where we’re going.”

Mike brought down his hand and curled up around the mug to warm his centre.  
“Mom and Dad weren’t exactly ecstatic.” He said and shrugged, careful of the warm liquid.

He was here now, and on his way, so any memories still squirming around in his guts were worth the price.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Axel blink slightly and lifted a brow.  
“So, you literally ran for the hilltops? Neat. Though that doesn’t explain….” Not finishing his sentence, he shot a thumb over at their tent.

“They allowed me to go to the mountain on _one_ _condition_ ” Mike sighed, rubbing his forehead “Sis had to come with me.”

Axel nodded.  
“Good choice.” He said and grinned, as Mike tried to punch his shoulder.

“More so necessary evil.”

Axel snorted and douched the hit, as he took a sip from the steaming mug.

Mike shifted slightly around; stretching out his legs and back.  
A somewhat pleasant quietness fell over them as both they drank from their mugs. The air was still, and every movement seemed to even out strips in the wet green madras below him.

Breaking up the air, Axel scratched his head, and looked over at him.  
“But climbing a mountain is no cakewalk; especially with your spaghetti limbs. You couldn’t just have stayed home and seen a movie or something? I’ve heard they’re coloured these days.”

He threw his hands up in a big wavy motion and shock his head.  
“I know _blasphemy_ coming from the local. But it would have been easier for you both. No need to bother with siblings, dark woods or… mountain… hands” Axel wrinkled his nose at that.

Mike swallowed, as he ducked his head.  
“I just want to go up there.” He said with almost a whisper.

“I want to go there. I want to… to see the view from that mountain top; see how small the towns look from up there, feel the clouds on my skin and … just experience it myself. I want to stand on the peak of that mountain; even if it is the _last_ _thing_ I do.”

A moment of quietness fell over them; Mike took a sip from his mug, as Axel’s eyes flickered away, and he slightly cringed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah… I might not make it back home.”

Mike tightened his grip on the mug; trying to focus on the slight warmth in his palms.

Axel slowly scooted over to him and flicked him on the head.  
“No need to be so pessimistic, bud. Maybe the mountain air and exercise will do you some good. A better attitude could probably heal you up, too.”

Mike bated the hand away and glanced down at the tea slops in the mug.  
The liquid waved slightly in his hands and the dim sunlight reflected on the murky surface in a blood red pallet, that was almost calming.  
It was nice, it was warm, and it didn’t come with stupid advice.

“Because mountain people and optimists never get sick. Sure, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Apparently, that was not approved of, since Axel took his half-empty mug away from him and heaved himself up to his feet.  
Mike rubbed his hands, scooted away and tried to focus on back on the flickering of the fire; but not too much success. A better attitude? What is that even supposed to mean; was he seriously expecting him to just agree with his nonsen-

“Here.”

He was handed back the mug, now almost overflowing with much, much warmer tea. _Ouch!_.

He scrambled to cover his hands with his shirt hems, as Axel sat down beside him and continued.  
“Maybe there’s a slight truth to what you said there. I would have hit jackpot then, if I was to say so myself.”

Axel chuckled and Mike rolled his eyes; but he still took a careful sip out of the mug and smiled as the warmth spread throughout his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading


	3. Chapter 3: Onward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike glanced back at Axel, from out the corner of his eye.
> 
> “I’d recommend you go along the river upstream.” Axel began and pointed down between the alleys of two residential houses.  
> “You can follow along a little pathway and continue on west. There’s an old stone bridge that lets you cross over the river, though it might be a bit battered up and hasn’t been used in a while. You’ll know, when you see it.” 
> 
> Axel paused for a moment, while scratching the back of his head.  
> “I can point you to the bridge, but good luck finding a route to the next town over. Since honestly, your map is shoddy and I could write a tragedy about your equipment.”

The sounds of bells melted into the background, as they reached the top of the hill.   
The occasional chirp from birds and shrill from wind through the high grass was a natural static, that grated on his ear as the bells enhanced the sound.

Still far below them, little brown-white houses were fitted in between clusters of trees and hills. The forest weaved around the edges of the tightly knitted town - all expect for a stretching river behind the town and a string of mountains on the other riverside.

There seemed to be browns dots squirming along the edges between land and water.

As the bells rang out a final time, he smiled and stood in awe.

He had finally made the first stop. Pilzstadt.

“You’re coming, buddy?”

He saw Amy turn towards him, as she tilted her head. The footpath, that she stood on, was leading in a thin thread down through the forest towards the town. He shook his head at her, unfortunately feeling the effects of the morning hike.

“Nah, I’m staying exactly here” He motioned around the rock filled hilltop and forced on a smile. “Say hello to my new home, _truly_ a wonder to behold”.

Amy snorted, as her shoulders slightly lowered; she turned around and whizzed down the footpath. As she disappeared into the wood line, he slumped on the nearest rock. Sighing, he massaged his legs and waited for the, far too early, prickling ache to fade.

The aching was persistently clinging onto him, digging its claws in like little needles. He leaned back on the rock and let air fill his lungs. With every breath he took, the claws retracted ever so slightly, turning into a dull nuisance. They were weights on his legs, stubbornly hanging on, but manageable.

He pushed himself up and adjusted his backpack. It had been like that, at some point every day before, so really nothing unmanageable. Taking one last look around, he trudged down the footpath and was swallowed into the looming woods.

-II-

“I think we should take it”

“No, we shouldn’t.”

“I’m sure we can make it work. Come on, it’s really cheap _and_ on discount.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

Mike hissed and grabbed after the bean can in Amy’s hand.

She dodged, by simply raising it, and his hand slammed into the store desk. Biting back a yelp, he stepped back and nursed his injured hand.

They were standing in a grocery store, much smaller than the one he knew back at home. Instead of two rooms to separate fresh and processed food, there was barely enough space to manoeuvre around, without hitting a food display or the register desk.

There were cans, bottles and small packages stacked all around them on dusty wooden shelves, that covered every inch of the walls. The strong smells seemed to compress the air around them and was enough to give him a slight headache.

When they had walked in, Amy had grabbed the first cheap thing on the shelf and dropped it down the shopping basket, long before he had a chance to touch a single thing.

Now he was grappling her in pursuit of a muted yellow soup can, maybe with a bit of desperation. There was a slight cough behind them.

“As amusing as this is, if you break something, you better believe you pay up for it.”

An elderly woman, in slim dress and white apron, had popped up behind the cash register and was looking at them with tired eyes and a stern expression. She pointed sharply at them both, and Amy immediately put the can on the nearest shelf.

“You are tourist, I assume?” she said, maintaining the stern expression and leaning her arms over the table. Mike crept a bit backwards, while Amy nodded and her face cracked into a smile.

“Sorry about that, just my little brother here being enthusiastic.”

Mike scuffed in the background. The woman raised an eyebrow, while Amy heaved up in her backpack and quickly continued.

“Miss, we need some food. Something that’s easy to package, preferably long-lasting and uhh… tasteful, please. We’ll be out your way, as soon as -.”

The doorbell ringed, as the door opened, and Axel stuck his head in.

“You two done yet?” He cooked his head and waved at the back of the room.“And hello to you, Mrs. Klepper.”

“Who did you bring this time, Berger?” The cashier said and scuffed. “It’s been five minutes, and they are already causing a mess.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, I know how much you like it when I bring new customers.”

Axel had quickly managed to get through the shop and up to the front of the register desk, snaking between food displays and Mike and Amy. He glanced back at Amy, and through what was probably some sort of silent agreement, she gave him a nod.

“This is the Richter siblings, that beauty there is Amelie and the little guy hiding behind her is Michael. They’re heading towards… some specific mountain.”

He paused slightly, looking away from the cashier and back at them for a second. Michael, meanwhile, stepped away from Amy.

“I’m not sure which mountain, since we have those in abundance… Anyway, I was lucky enough to meet them, and find out that they _really_ need some good supplies. So, could you be the darling, that I know you are, and give them a hand in picking? Just anything transportable from that sweet spot, between garbage and overpriced.”

 ~~The woman~~ Mrs. Klepper scratched her neck and sighed, before she waved her other hand towards herself.

“Give me those wares, that I ordered, so I can pay you for ‘em. Then we’ll see about, what I can do.”

-II-

As the door chimed the little group walked out the door, now with a bigger dent in their wallet and newly stuffed backpack weighing down on Mike’s shoulders. Despite Amy’s protest, he had managed to take and carry every can and package, they had brought. It helped, that between the cooking gear, tent and blankets, it had been near impossible to fit anything more inside her backpack - let alone close it.

Mike pushed away his fringe and pulled his attention back the map in his hands. Or at least, the poor, unintelligible excuse for a map. The poor thing looked like an art piece on coffee stains and green fungus, that later had been covered over by grids for good measure.

Much to their delightful surprise, there hadn’t been any useful maps in the shop for purchase, and they had instead been advised to look in the next town over.

Though, that could prove to be a challenge as well.

They still needed to travel in between or over a few mountain passages, but before all of that, they had to cross the Pilzstadt river. The river was about 20 meters wide and its depth about the size of a full-grown pine tree. The nearest way to get across was over the local bridge… a bridge which apparently had encountered a recent flood, was currently very damaged and wasn’t going to be fixed until spring. Needless to say, crossing the bridge wasn’t a good option for them.

He packaged the map and kicked a pebble, so it skipped along the street.

Axel coughed, and Mike glanced at him, from out the corner of his eye.

“I’d recommend you go along the river upstream.” He began and pointed down between the alleys of two residential houses. “You can follow along a little pathway and continue on west. There’s an old stone bridge that lets you cross over the river, though it might be a bit battered up and hasn’t been used in a while. You’ll know, when you see it.” Axel paused for a moment, while scratching the back of his head. “I can point you to the bridge, but good luck finding a route to the next town over. Since honestly, your map is shoddy and I could write a _tragedy_ about your equipment.”

Axel dropped his hand and looked directly over at Amy, as Mike frowned.   
“What you should do is-”

Axel knew a lecture had been likely coming, but he still grimaced and shut his ears.

He was going to reach the mountain, no matter the minor obstacles, no matter what Axel was about to say, and no matter what others had said. He shut his eyes for a moment, while Axel continued on talking, likely to Amy.

“I’m going to the mountain, anyway.” He raised his head.

“- with me, and so… what?” Axel tilted his head towards him. “Didn’t you hear … never mind.”

He sighed. “I know your type Shrimpy, of course you are. But I also know, that you really can’t get the next town without specific directions - I’m not kidding.”

Mike huffed, but Axel simply smirked slightly and stood back with hands on his hips.

“As I said, what you need is a proper map. And lucky for you, you can get one pretty much for free - with the added bonus of live commentary and good company. No refunds after accepting, though.”

“…what” Mike said, with a deadpan stare. Amy tilted her head and smiled at Axel.

“That… is a tempting offer, and we do like free things.”

Mike crossed his arms and pointed his head away. He felt a tuck on his arm, and saw Amy had reached out hers, her face settled into a smaller, hopefully, apologetic smile.

He glanced back at Axel. He knew the right answer, he knew which answer wouldn’t have them stuck in Pilzstadt for months and which answer had already proved to be a big help. But knowing didn’t change the uncomfortable buzzing in his stomach - or that the answer meant more people around him to keep a tight grip on his hand. A little voice tucked in the back of his head, telling him to get a move on.

He sighed.

And so, the less-so-temporary trio hitched up in their backpacks, and soon left the little town of Pilzstadt behind. As they came to the banks of the river, he noticed a single narrow iron bridge, that would have lead to the other side of the water. The entire bridge was bent and twisted in a strange angle, where the railings stood almost horizontal in the middle, and several planks were missing.

Mike looked at the calm, gently flowing water underneath the bridge, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from letting out a small wavering laugh. Mother nature in action, he supposed. He dragged a hand through his hair, before pulling his eyes away.

He went on and only glanced back once, where he noticed Amy was still standing in front of the broken bridge. She didn’t wear a good expression.

-II-

They soon broke off from the towns road and followed along a trail, beaten into the grass and stones, towards the east. The road continued on for a while without much change in scenery, as they followed closely against the curving river. The scenery was fairly simple, with the river disappearing into the green valley, and the far above mountains on the other riverside almost seeming to lay on each other. A single mountain had gradually peaked out behind the others, and he could see how it was coated in a layer of clouds.

The peak was nothing, but grey and white.

“Axel, what’s the name of that mountain?” Mike pointed up towards it, despite his sneaking suspicion.

Axel halted, his eyes seemingly following his motion.

“The deep green one? That’s Aurborda - a bit of a long climb, but the Inn at the peak-”

“Nope, the furthest back one, you can mostly see the top of it.”

Axel paused, glancing between Mike and to where he had pointed, with narrowed eyes.

He then uttered an ‘oh’ sound and snapped his fingers.

“That is Hyrrokin Mountain. It is the tallest, _toughest_ thing you can find here - no contest. My dear old Mom calls it ‘the masochist dream of those mountain hikers personified’.

Mike gulped slightly, feeling a knot form in his throat.

“…Well, at least it’s not nightmare.” Amy said.

Mike looked back as she patted his shoulder. He saw her glancing between him and the general direction of Aurborda and Hyrrokin.

“ _That’s_ the one, right?” She said, quieter then moments before.

He nodded back to her.

“The mountain with an Inn sounds nice as well, we could try going up there.” She chuckled. “I definitely wouldn’t mind a good beer.”

“They had ones on sale in the shop, Sis.” Mike pointed out.

“Yeah, but going there would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She said. “Aboda looks pretty high and it’s right beside the big mountain gap here, so the view must be nice. Since there’s an Inn at the peak, I bet there’s a good, shorter road we could follow.”

“I have never even heard of Aurborda.” Mike grumbled.

Although not surprising, given the amount of ranges, mountains and peaks in the region. Despite his best efforts, he had struggled to remember most the names and characteristics, simply because of the sheer size of information. He remembered laying in bed at home with the worn-out travel guides, trying to shove another hundred names inside his brain, until they started leaking out his ears and only a few of the impressive ones remained. A mountain with an Inn barely rung a bell and besides, why wander all this way only to end up in a place he could find back at home?

A hand on his shoulder shook him out of his thoughts. Amy’s eyes flickered between his and she bit her lip.

“Just consider it, alright? We could cut down a lot of travel-time if we made the Inn our end-point instead. Then we could rent a room for a few nights, all warm and cozy. I could sit inside and chat with some people, and you would have more time to draw your sketches.” She said. “I’m sure the view is great at the top of Aboda too.”

“That just means the real top is twice as great, Sis.”

He shook his shoulder lightly to get her hand off, and to his mild suprise it worked.

She looked at him with an annoying expression, before heaving up in her backpack and moving around him up to the front with Axel.

He had hoped that she wouldn’t listen to his ironclad logic, but he blinked slightly when she seemingly did. Good, there was apparently still a long way to the top of Hyrrokin, to their final destination, from were they currently stood. Any chance to quickly move was welcome. He had to make it - he would have started running long ago, if he could have.

The two others were moving, the distance between him and them quickly growing.

He could feel the tuch inside him, urghing him to move on and he took a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too happy about this chapter; it's kinda like the pacing decided it wanted to take a nap, and I haven't quite figured out how to wake it up yet. But as soon as do, I'll definitely be updating this. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
